


If I Stay Here, Trouble Will Find Me

by grammarglamour



Category: Haven (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 00:05:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13134996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grammarglamour/pseuds/grammarglamour
Summary: Duke gets everything he wants. Set sometime in Season 3.





	If I Stay Here, Trouble Will Find Me

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas, Haven fandom! I just binged this whole show, and got absolutely hooked. Cute boys, a cute girl, supernatural mysteries, and killer scenery. What's not to love? So here's my first attempt at a Haven fic. Hope I got it right.

Duke awoke far too early for his liking on a Saturday morning. His annoyance faded when he caught the unmistakable scent of pancakes and coffee wafting through Nathan’s house. He smiled and rubbed his eyes, remained stationary for a brief moment, before springing up and into the bathroom. Along the way, he collected a pair of pajama pants that had been flung on the back of a chair. The pants might have been Nathan’s, but he didn’t care.

Duke peed, washed his hands and face, and snuck a dab of Nathan’s super-secret under-eye moisturizer. It smelled like roses.

He wandered into the kitchen and found – as expected – Nathan standing there in an oversized t-shirt and boxer shorts. Barefooted and tousle-haired, he struck an unsurprising image of youth. Duke hadn’t seen him quite like that since their twenties, when Nathan came home from college and Duke happened to be laying low at a friend’s after a disastrous job elsewhere.

“Banana or blueberry?” Nathan asked without turning around.

Duke went up behind him, kissed the spot behind his ear, put his chin on Nathan’s shoulder. “Surprise me.”

“Well, I can’t do either with you in my way like that.” His words were teasing and Duke saw his smile. He stepped back, reached over to the fridge, and grabbed the blueberries.

“Here,” he said.

Nathan took the container from Duke. It was one of those green farmer’s market ones, made from compostable paper. “The right choice,” he said, nodding gravely.

“I know what you like.”

“I’ll say. Last night was – wow.”

“Gonna make me blush,” Duke said, grabbing two coffee cups from the chipped array in the cupboard. Nathan would get “Sexy Senior Citizen” and he would take the “Arizona Christmas” mug with blocky Southwestern-style reindeer and a coyote in a Santa hat.

“Gonna make me forget these pancakes.” Nathan shook his head before rinsing the blueberries and artfully placing a handful on the pancake in the skillet.

Duke poured them both some coffee and perched on top of a stool at the counter. He watched Nathan, always such a pleasure. Nathan moved as a man who had no idea how effortlessly sexy his lithe muscles and gentle fingers were. His obliviousness was part of his charm. People called him handsome often enough, commented on his jaw and the cleft in his chin, but it never sank in for him. Duke knew his own attractiveness was largely due to personality. He did okay for himself – snared Nathan, after all – but he knew he was kind of weird-looking. “Strong features,” old ladies would say.

Nathan turned just as a particularly dopey expression must have washed over Duke’s face, as he raised his eyebrows and laughed. “What’s that look for?”

“Nothing. Just thinking about how sexy you are.”

“That’s a weird thing to think about,” Nathan said. He set out syrup, forks, and butter before putting down two plates heavy with pancakes.

“Not at all. It’s true.”

“Well, you ain’t so bad yourself.” Nathan kissed Duke’s nose and went on to suggest they go for a hike later, maybe go swimming. Duke found himself agreeing to it, all the while marveling at how perfectly boring and normal he had become. He wasn’t exactly a villain, but he was far from a saint. He had gone legit years ago, but a sense of unease still niggled in his mind when something went his way. But he wouldn’t think about that now – he had to get ready for a hike.

***

The water spread out all around them like the boat was just a little decoration sitting atop a blue-gray piece of glass. The sun warmed them just enough for lying out on the deck. Duke, of course, opted for nudity, while Nathan wore short, tight trunks that looked like something from a 1950s “physique” magazine.

“When should we get back? We have dinner with Audrey later,” Nathan reminded him.

Eyes closed beneath dark Ray-Bans, Duke hummed an admonition. “As much as I enjoy her company, I don’t want to be reminded that we have anywhere else to be.”

“There’s always somewhere else to be,” Nathan mused, sitting up enough to take a drink of water. He offered the metal bottle to Duke, who thought about foreswearing it for a beer but decided against it.

“Seems like that, doesn’t it?”

“Every moment is just – castles built on shifting sand. On – on – these moments we call reality, but can we even trust that?”

Duke replaced the cap on the water bottle and set it back on the deck. He sat up on the deck chair. “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Nathan said. He put his hand on Duke’s cheek, pushed a chunk of hair behind Duke’s ear. “Hey, let’s find some shade and switch to beer.”

Duke put on his best charming scoundrel smile, but the unease that Nathan’s words brought remained. _Somewhere else to be_. The phrase rang in his ears like an alarm bell and he had that feeling like he had forgotten something important. He knew he had brought his backpack with him – cell phone, satellite phone, paper maps, back-up first-aid kit, keys – but even this mental inventory didn’t assuage the nagging feeling that he missed something.

“Kolsch or pilsner?” Nathan asked from the galley.

“Pilsner. One from the back—”

“Because it’s the coldest,” Nathan said, already shoulder-deep reaching into the fridge. He removed the cap and sauntered over, handed the beer to Duke. One kiss and his unease dissipated.

They went back up to the deck and pushed the chairs into the shade cast by the awning above the entryway. Duke kept his glasses on and his feet in the sun; he always got so cold in the shade.

Nothing was amiss. Everything was as it should be. The ocean, a beer, the man he loved.

Loved?

He looked over at Nathan. The sun had turned the tops of his thighs and calves pink, the bottom parts brown. Fine blond hairs stood out among the colors of his skin. Nathan, sensing he had been watched, turned his head at raised his sunglasses to look at Duke.

“You think we should make a cake before we go over to Audrey’s?”

“We?”

“Okay, you?”

Duke laughed. Yes, loved.

***

Audrey stared down at Duke’s unresponsive face.

Four days, he had been like this. She had been headed downstairs to give him the rent check and found him slumped by his chalkboard _Specials_ sign, chalk still clutched in his left hand. His eyes had been closed, and he looked like maybe he was only in some kind of silent contemplation. But he hadn’t woken when she shook him. He hadn’t woken when she called Lucassi and Nathan to get over there, pronto. He hadn’t woken as Lucassi shined a light in his eyes, as Nathan took too much glee in trying to wake him with a glass of ice water to the face, or as the three of them had moved him up the stairs into Audrey’s apartment while they waited for an ambulance.

“Medically speaking, he’s fine,” Lucassi had said. “Vitals are good, pupils are responsive. It’s Trouble-related, but I’ll make sure he gets to the hospital under a decent story. I’ll ride with him.”

The ambulance arrived; the team loaded him in; Nathan and Audrey stared stupidly at the ambulance as it drove away.

“What now?”

“You know what now,” Nathan said, putting an arm around her shoulder. “We find the Troubled person, you talk them down, and Duke goes back to normal. Well, as normal as Duke ever gets.”

She managed a smile at that, but a thought tugged her mind: “What if—?”

“There is no what-if,” Nathan said. “You will fix him.”

The doubts still plagued her, but she said nothing. Nathan would have to be the keeper of the faith on this one. Who was she to toss out a supporter?

***

They visited him in the hospital later that night and every evening thereafter. They sat in there as long as they could before the nurses apologetically tossed them out. Days were filled with brainstorming, investigating, following up every thin and stupid lead, but the evenings were spent in the cold light of the hospital room.

When Friday rolled around, they came in right after work and brought food for themselves. Audrey ordered an extra portion of fries, reasoning that either Duke would be awake or they would have more fries to eat.

“These extra fries are getting cold. I assume.”

Audrey’s lips turned up into a good-natured smirk. “What’s the difference to you?”

“My tongue still works, you know.”

“Does it?” Her smirk turned into a leer.

“Oh my God, Parker. Don’t. It’s – it’s unnatural. And what if Duke can hear you?”

“He’d be laughing if he heard that and you know it.”

Nathan said nothing, which Audrey took as a victory; if she had been wrong, he surely would have protested. But Duke didn’t laugh. He didn’t move, didn’t do anything that indicated he was still in there at all.

“What do you suppose he’s . . . seeing? Or thinking about? Or whatever is happening in there?” She put her hand on Duke’s forehead and let her hand brush down the side of his face, down his temple.

Nathan took a sip of soda. “I don’t know.”

She dug into the bag and found the fries were indeed getting cold. She ate a few anyway. “Ugh, cold fries. I should have just made some egg salad. I’ve had a weird craving for it.”

Nathan grabbed some too. “It’s the consistency that’s a problem. I can still sense consistency.”

Outside, the weather was depressing. It was a coastal late winter, with dishwater-gray clouds hanging over the town and an icy chill in the air. She wished it would rain, but the clouds just hung there.

***

Another day, and it was Nathan laying there on the cold, damp pavement, eyes closed and limbs akimbo. They were following some leads to an old warehouse squat on the outskirts of town. Their sources had said that one Hoyt Kearney had come back from a stint in the Army. Hoyt had seen some terrible things overseas, the other squatters said, and it had activated his Trouble. He didn’t know much about it, his friend said, just knew that people went down when Hoyt touched them.

She had been talking to one of the guys when she heard a scuffle outside. Out the window, Nathan was fighting with a scraggly, blond man. Even at a distance, his cheeks stood out in hollow relief. His wiry frame seemed to be held together by stubborn, frantic pain as he fought to lay hands on Nathan, who put up an excellent and quick thinking defense in grabbing the guy by wrists covered in grimy sweatshirt sleeves.

Audrey ran outside without thought, but by the time she got there, it was too late. Hoyt had touched Nathan’s forehead and run off. She chased him as far as she could but lost him quicker than she had him. She called it in, and her voice shook. She had to work hard to keep from yelling at poor Laverne.

“And send – send an ambulance.” Her voice finally cracked.

“Oh no, darlin’. Is it Nathan?”

“Yeah.”

“Is it, well, you-know-what-related?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, darlin’. I’ll send the right crew out for you.”

Backup arrived, a maelstrom of lights and sirens – an ambulance, and two police cars. She directed them on autopilot – you go here, you go there – while her mind seemed singularly focused on Nathan, inert and being loaded into the ambulance.

When the activity died down, she realized how powerfully alone she now was. It was up to her to save the two she cared about the most.

She stood in the road for a moment, and the sound of someone crashing through scrap metal called her attention. It was the squatter she had been talking to when all this went down. It had been less than half an hour and felt like a lifetime ago.

“It’s okay,” she said, coaxing him out. “You can talk to me. I won’t report you for squatting, though you might want to move on. This place will be crawling with cops for a couple days.”

He nodded. “Thank you, ma’am. Hoyt – he isn’t a bad guy, you know? He – he wanted things to be nice when he got back, and they weren’t. His girlfriend broke up with him, he couldn’t get a job – all the usual stuff.”

“I know,” she said. “Are you Troubled too?”

“Yeah,” he admitted.

“I know people who can help—”

“No way, lady,” he said. “No one can help me now.”

“That’s not true. The Troubles have been around a long time. Troubled people have made resources for themselves.”

Her radio chirped, backup returning, and the guy hightailed it without another word. She had about thirty seconds to fall apart and put herself back together, so that was what she did. When her backup arrived back to report that they hadn’t found the guy, she was ready.

***

Duke circled the Bronco, garden hose in hand, thumb positioned over the nozzle. Dirt sloughed off the blue surface, leaving a gleam in its wake. Nathan knelt at the tires, wiping down the hubcaps.

“You don’t have to help me with this,” Nathan said.

“I know.”

“You could go inside and make me a sandwich instead.”

Duke turned the hose on him, a quick spray up and down his spine.

“That’s cold!”

“The water or my heart?”

“Both!”

Duke thought it was over, but just as he relaxed, the snap of a damp chamois hit him on his bare shoulder.

“Ow, hey! The water wouldn’t leave a mark.”

“I’m sorry,” Nathan said, kissing the spot he had just snapped.

“Damn right,” Duke muttered.

Post-car wash, they lazed on the couch, Duke reading _The Sailor Who Fell From Grace With the Sea_ and Nathan doing sodoku. He shifted, laid his head in Nathan’s lap, and settled into the comfortable spot where Nathan’s thighs weren’t too bony or muscular.

“Audrey wanted to do that art wine walk thing later,” Nathan said after a while.

“I like all those things,” Duke said, “but I’m skeptical about combining them into one activity.”

“Come on, the weather’s nice, Audrey’s nice, wine is nice . . .”

“Sometimes less is more.”

“Sometimes more is more,” Nathan rebutted.

“Hm, well, that’s a rare sentiment coming from you.”

“I have layers.”

“So does toilet paper.”

“And you’d be really sad if that disappeared from your life, too.”

“You have a point there.” He stashed his bookmark in the book and stared up at Nathan. “All right, we’ll get drunk and look at endless lighthouse watercolors.”

“That’s my guy.”

***

The police station at noon bustled as much as a small town police station could. Haven’s small squadron of cops were busy taking reports on the petty squabbles, low-grade vandalism, and break-ins that comprised crime in Haven. Duke nodded at Stan, Laverne, and others he knew as he made his way to Nathan’s office. There was no purpose for his visit, other than he wanted to see Nathan, so he brought him some lunch.

“Hey, Duke,” Audrey said, rising and brushing crumbs from her shirt. She gave him a hug, happy to see him even though they saw each other almost every day.

“Hey,” he said, returning the hug and picking her up ever so slightly off the floor, which made her laugh. “Whatcha eating?” He nodded toward the half-sandwich on her desk.

“Egg salad,” she said, “unless you have something better in there for me.”

“PB&J for Nathan.”

“I’ll stick with egg salad,” she said, sitting back down and resuming her sandwich. “I’ve had such a weird craving for it lately.”

This innocuous statement struck him cold to the core. Something about her words seemed to drift in from an unknown, horrible place.

“You okay?” Her brow furrowed in concern.

“Yeah,” he said, voice breathy. “Fine. Just – hungry or something, I guess.”

Nathan came in, hands overloaded with files and a coffee cup. He smiled when he saw Duke, kissing him briefly. “Did you bring me food?”

Duke shook off his unease and pulled a sandwich from the bag. “PB&J.”

Nathan took his sandwich, and Duke pulled one out for himself. He sat with Audrey and Nathan for a while, listened to their back-and-forth. Everything about it fit with any other lunchtime he spent with them, but part of him remained uneasy. The room seemed to lose a tiny bit of depth as he stared at it. Audrey and Nathan shimmered before him, and he tried his damnedest to chalk it up to being a trick of the light.

***

Hoyt Kearney’s squatter friend sent Audrey a message, via text:

 _He’s hiding out on an empty sailboat. One of the summer people left it. It’s the_ Amy Blue.

She tried to call the number but was met with only a brief tone and a computerized voice telling her the number was no longer in service.

She suppressed the urge to run right over to the harbor and start searching boats. She would have to wait, handle it delicately. Nathan’s absence struck her like a physical force – not for the first time in the two days since he had gone under. She shook it off and slipped out of the police station, back to the hospital. She had asked them to put Duke and Nathan in the same room. It would have caused endless bickering had either of them been conscious, but not now. The eerie silence in the room unnerved her; she would have much preferred bickering.

“I have a lead,” she said, settling into a chair between the two hospital beds. “Allegedly our Troubled guy is squatting in a sailboat. If I get him, the first thing I’m going to do is bring him here and fix you two. It’s been so hard without you both here. I can’t do this stuff on my own.”

Neither man moved, sighed, grunted – nothing. She got out of the chair and moved to kiss them both on the forehead before leaving the room. Somehow, their motionlessness spurred her on. She _would_ fix this.

***

Nathan kissed a slow trail from Duke’s stomach to his chest, and then up to his neck. When he reached Duke’s mouth, he paused a moment, smiled against him, and then kissed him. This kiss, rather than a quick press of lips, involved his whole mouth – tongue, lips, even the gentle scrape of teeth against Duke’s own.

Nathan kissed with the same somber intensity he approached everything else, and Duke had to wonder what it was like being him. Duke was not a serious man, having seen so much dire folly from his fellow humans. In his estimation, Shakespeare had it right and the world really was just a stage and the people upon it were no more than actors. It was hard to take anything seriously after that realization. Nathan obviously had not figured that out, but Duke loved him for it anyway. If they were both laughing at absurdity, they’d never make it. Nathan grounded Duke as a man, grounded their relationship.

Nathan’s fingers buried themselves in Duke’s hair. “Soft.”

“I finally washed it.”

“That would be so gross if anyone else said it.”

“I’m that charming.”

“Yes you are,” Nathan confirmed.

They returned to kissing and touching, which led to unhurried sex and a post-coital nap. As Duke drifted off, he stared at Nathan’s back. They didn’t like to sleep too close together. Nathan overheated and Duke liked his space. But they always found a way to touch – a foot pressed against a leg; fingers twined; butts together.

Drifting in and out of sleep, Duke lost focus for a moment. The room around him took on a two-dimensional glow, like a primitive computer rendering, and Nathan seemed to shimmer next to him. Normally, he could write it off as a trick of the light. Except – that feeling returned, that feeling he had when Audrey talked about her egg salad craving. It faded soon enough, but he was left lying there with a chill in his core.

“You okay?” Nathan mumbled.

“Yeah,” Duke said, doing his best to shake it. He kissed the back of Nathan’s neck and ran his hand over the hard ridge of the other man’s hip. “Everything is peachy keen.”

***

“Remember when you came to Haven?” Nathan asked, gesturing his wine glass at Audrey.

“Oh God, don’t remind me.” She took a sip of wine as if to erase the memory.

“You nearly drove into the ocean.”

“To say nothing of the condition in which I found you,” Duke chimed in.

“Well, you found me clothed, and then I found myself in one of your shirts.”

“I had to make sure you stayed here. What better way than taking your clothes?”

“That’s a terrible plan.”

“It worked, though, didn’t it?”

She tossed a throw pillow at him, but she laughed all the same. They sat in Nathan’s living room with the lights low, drinking wine. A board game lay forgotten on the coffee table. Outside the window, Haven sparkled in the late-summer evening. The sun set in spectacular arrays of blue, pink, and purple. It was cozy and perfect – but something felt wrong all of a sudden.

Audrey and Nathan bantered on, even as Duke sat in silence. He couldn’t put a finger on it, on this wrong feeling, this sense that everything was breaking down on a quantum level. He tried to breathe deeply and look up at the ceiling, but it just wavered before his eyes. Somewhere close beyond his perception, fractal images swirled.

It ended as abruptly as it began, and he rejoined the conversation with a laugh. It sounded manic and false to his ears, but his companions said nothing.

***

Dwight accompanied her to the docks. She probably should have brought another officer with her, but no one was as experienced with Troubles as she and Nathan. The last thing she needed was a scared beat cop shooting first and asking questions later when Duke’s and Nathan’s lives were in the balance. Dwight may not have been official, but he was her best option.

Audrey made it halfway down the steps into the living quarters of the boat without a sound. But a stealth attack was not in the cards. Her shoes slipped on a stair, and she went tumbling ass over teakettle. As she fell, brief thoughts flitted through her head, like _maybe he isn’t here and we can wait for him_ and _he could be sleeping._

“Well, that’s one way to do it,” Dwight said as he helped her up.

They braced themselves for a fight, and sure enough – Hoyt came charging at them full force. He was ragged with a grizzled beard and an oil-stained coat. Dwight clotheslined him easily enough and he fell backward onto the floor. He pulled Hoyt into a sitting position – rough, but not too rough, for which Audrey was grateful. The last thing she needed was to scare him even further.

“Please don’t hurt me,” Hoyt yelled.

“We won’t.”

“That massive dude just fucking clotheslined me!”

“I know. He’s sorry.”

“No I’m not.”

She clenched her jaw and cut a wide-eyed look at Dwight, who shrugged.

“Listen, Hoyt, I’m Detective Audrey Parker. Have you heard of the Troubles?”

Hoyt’s eyes got wide, full of fear. “Not me – I don’t have one of those – I just – things have been tough since coming back from the service. No, leave me out of that Trouble shit.”

“I’m sorry, Hoyt, but you need to listen to me here. My friends’ lives are at stake, and maybe some of your friends’ lives, too.”

“You have the wrong guy. I served this country in that fucked-up war, and I just want to make a living. I’m not asking for the moon here. And I barely touched that guy at the bar.”

“Who else?” Audrey asked, voice quiet and even. “Who else did you ‘barely touch’?”

Hoyt got silent. Audrey could see the gears turning, and he slumped in Dwight’s grip. “I didn’t mean to.”

“Of course not. These Troubles, they come on when people are under huge stress. I’ve been working with Troubled people for about three years now, and hardly any of them were bad people. They were just like you. They couldn’t control it, and they were horrified at the results.”

“There are people in town who can help you,” Dwight said. “You don’t have to go through this alone.”

“You don’t get it! I do have to go through this alone! That’s the whole goddamned point – I touch people, and they go under. I don’t know where they go. I don’t know if any of them have woken up.”

“There are ways to manage this,” Audrey said. She knelt down in front of him at a safe distance. “Your first step is to calm down. You aren’t alone anymore. You have a long road ahead of you – I’m not going to lie to you – but you have friends who understand.”

Hoyt heaved a dry sob and put his head in his hands. He didn’t protest any further, but he hardly seemed relieved. Anxiety spiked in Audrey’s chest. If he didn’t calm down – no, she couldn’t think about that.

Dwight moved over to a small bar set up in the boat. He rifled around for some booze and came up with three glasses and a bottle of what appeared to be very good whiskey.

“Dwight—”

He waved her off. “I’ll replace it before they get back.”

Audrey rolled her eyes and helped Hoyt up, assiduously avoiding touching his hands. Dwight slid a glass across the counter at her, and she hesitated. Technically, she was on duty. But she was on duty to calm down a guy who could put people into comas with a touch. She took the whiskey. The only person Dwight could report her to was one of those people in a coma.

“What regiment?” Dwight asked.

Hoyt rattled off the regiment, and they went back and forth about military life. It got him talking and calmed him down. She sat back and let Dwight do his thing. That was a bond she couldn’t talk her way through, and she knew enough to get out of the way when need be. And the whiskey really was very good.

“My Trouble kicked in over there, you know,” Dwight said. He told Hoyt the story, a story that Audrey herself had heard several times. But it carried a particular weight this time. He was explaining it to someone who knew exactly what a fire fight was like, who knew the terror of this unknown and supernatural thing on top of all the other dangers. Hoyt nodded along with Dwight’s story. He kept his gaze on his glass, taking an occasional sip, and he didn’t look up until the part about Lizzie.

“Jesus, man.”

“Yep.”

“The Guard helped me. The old chief helped me. I hated asking for help, too. I mean, I hated it. But you know how it goes. You gotta know when you’re bested. And this thing? It can’t be dealt with alone.” He finished his whiskey.

Hoyt nodded. “Okay, man. Okay. Take me to the Guard.”

“You got it,” Dwight said.

They said their good-byes and Audrey calmed her nerves by washing up the glasses and trying to clear the evidence of Hoyt. But as she watched Dwight lead him up onto the deck, she knew he’d be back within twenty-four hours and there would be no evidence any of them had been there. She knew where she needed to be.

***

Duke awoke with a start. His mind was alert even as his limbs were sluggish. He sat up, looked around, and registered what he saw: Hospital room, Nathan in the next bed, dark outside, no one else around. Nathan stared over at him.

At first, he thought that they were back in that dream world that had been so real. He thought something had happened in that Trouble-free world where they were – he swallowed hard and glanced guiltily at Nathan. Grief swallowed him nearly whole as he remembered that world of bright days, no Troubles, and being with Nathan.

He remembered everything. It didn’t settle in like a dream, but rather like faded, comfortable memories. He remembered it the way he remembered winning the _Cape Rouge_ or the first time he got arrested. His fingers could almost perceive the soft hair at the nape of Nathan’s neck, or the taste of the wine that he had just been drinking. He clenched his jaw; he wouldn’t cry, not now.

Nathan looked similarly stricken, but Duke was more than sure that he hadn’t been in Duke’s dream. There was no way.

“Must have been a Haven thing,” Nathan said, huffing out a shaky laugh.

“Must have been.”

He started pulling out the tubes and monitors that comprised the hospital set pieces. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, his toes curling as his feet hit the floor, and tried to find at least some pants. Nathan remained tethered by all of these trappings, but he still reached out and caught Duke’s arm as he passed.

“Wait for Audrey.”

“No.” He shook off Nathan’s hand, even though all he wanted was to hold that hand and kiss the palm as he remembered so vividly doing.

But Audrey was no fool, and she arrived as Duke searched cabinets for some pants. She came up to him, eyes glistening, and put her hand on his face.

“It worked.”

“I guess so.” He pulled away from her, kept searching for pants. It dawned on him that he may need to slip out barefoot and with his ass practically hanging out.

She had gone over to Nathan, of course, and that was fine with him. If they were distracted –

“Oh no you don’t.” Firm hands grasped the back of the hospital gown. “Lucassi is on his way, and you aren’t going anywhere until he sees you.”

“Tell him to make a house call. Boat call. Whatever.”

He pulled away from her grasp and slipped out the door, into a stairwell, and down to the lobby. Along the way, he found some scrubs and changed into them before making his way to the _Cape Rouge_.

***

Immediately upon arriving at the _Rouge_ , Duke got her ready to depart from the harbor. He called no one and left no information about where he was headed – mainly because he himself was unsure. He sailed north and stayed relatively close to shore, distrusting the late winter weather, finally coming to rest in a small Canadian town with spotty cell service. It was perfect.

He docked there for a few days, venturing into town only once – to stock up on cheap beer and snacks.

Part of him felt thoroughly stupid for this fit of pique. A grown man should not react to dreams like this. But these weren’t simply dreams; they were Trouble-induced . . . he didn’t even know what. Hallucinations? Visions? Whatever they were, losing them was as if he had really lost Nathan. How could he possibly continue their acidic banter and cautious collaborations after this? He _knew_ Nathan now; even if it wasn’t real, Duke was certain that if he kissed Nathan, he’d taste just the same.

When he finally went back to Haven, he timed it so that he’d get in at night. He wanted one more night before Audrey or Nathan found him and tried to get him back into the fold.

True to form, he was awakened bright and early the next morning by Audrey yelling, “Yoo hoo! Duke! I brought coffee.”

“I’m not back yet,” he called back.

“Put some clothes on – I’m coming down there.”

He had barely shimmied into some sweats when she came clambering down, somehow navigating two coffees as she made her descent. He hated to admit how good that coffee smelled.

“We’ve got icicles in the shape of dicks all along Main Street,” she said, handing him a coffee. “Want to come along and find out the explanation behind that one?”

He raised an eyebrow at that. “Tempting, but no.”

“Where ya been, Duke? You were gone almost a week.”

“Around.”

“Lucassi still wants to see you for a check-up.”

“Nothing to see – I’m fine. You want some toast or eggs or something?” He started banging around in the kitchen, slamming the silverware drawer shut as he got out a butter knife and slapped it onto the counter with a clank.

“No, I’m good. I wanted to see you, that was all. Make sure you were okay. Hoyt – our Troubled guy – just got back from a tour in Iraq. I don’t know what you saw when you were under, but I want you to remember it wasn’t real. It can’t hurt you.”

He barked out a rueful, sarcastic laugh at that. “Oh, I know it wasn’t real.” He paused, stared down at the slices of bread in front of him as though they were screens playing it all back to him. “It felt real, though.”

“Hoyt’s getting help. Whatever he was projecting—”

“Projecting?”

“Yeah. I figured that he must have induced that coma state or whatever it was, and he was showing people what he saw.”

His appetite absconded as the bottom dropped out of his stomach. He put the bread back in the bag. “Oh. What does Nathan have to say about it?”

“Not much, as usual. He won’t talk about it either.”

“It was real, all right. As real as this. Maybe even more so. But – it wasn’t terrible. It wasn’t some shell-shocked vet’s worst nightmares.” He sipped the coffee, even though it tasted burnt and he didn’t like it. He’d get his French press out when she left, but it was rude to reject coffee when someone brought it.

“What was it, then?” She furrowed her brow and held up her hand. “I mean, you don’t have to tell me details. But . . .”

“It was . . . everything I want. Perfection. The kind of life—” His throat hitched. “The kind of life I dreamed about as a kid.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” He set the coffee cup down, played with the plastic lid.

Audrey stared down at her own coffee cup, for once at a loss for words. After a while, she said, “I have to go to work.”

“Okay. I should check in with the Gull. I didn’t tell anyone there where I was, either.”

"Fine. I’ll see you around.”

He watched her go up to the top deck, listened for her steps above. Real life awaited him.


End file.
